moments
by authorisasauthordoes
Summary: A series of drabbles based on requests for Riley and Lucas.
1. keeping time

For all the chaos of the hospital hidden behind the big double doors, Riley is transfixed by how quiet the waiting room is. Despite all the people seated just like her the space is numbingly calm, the only sound she can focus on coming from the analog clock on the wall above the reception desk.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She's not sure why she expected otherwise; it's not like she's never been here before. She can remember rushing to the hospital with Maya after she tried the kick-flip off the park bench and cracked her head open. She can remember the quick visit to the ER when Farkle sprained his ankle tap dancing. But those instances feel different somehow. Less guilt, less to lose.

" _It knew it._ "Maya's shaky voice echoes through her skull. " _I knew something like this would happen._ "

She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since he fell off the bull. She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since they left the rodeo, following the ambulance. She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since they wheeled him away through those big double doors, leaving her stranded without a clue as to what happens next.

All she knows is that this is all her fault. And she can't handle thinking about what happens next.

 _I knew it. I knew it. I knew it._

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Riley can't help but think about how Lucas would always keep time. Not purposefully, but she had noticed early on how he had this habit of tapping his fingers. As reliable as a metronome, when he was thinking or listening or trying to focus, he would tap his fingers against the desk or his knee and keep the time. Completely subconscious, but predictable. Dependable just like the rest of him.

One time, when they went to the movies earlier in the school year, he'd kept the time against her wrist. They had been next to each other and sharing an armrest – she'd grabbed his arm a couple of times already out of fright, she still couldn't believe she let Maya talk her into another scary movie – and about halfway through the movie he started tapping his finger against the back of her hand. She doesn't know if he even knew he was doing it. She doesn't know why she's remembering it now.

But she didn't get spooked for the rest of the film. Something about the rhythmic motion was grounding, kept her out of her own head. Besides, it was a little hard to focus on the movie when all she could think about was how hard her heart was pounding.

" _Come on, Lucas. Move. Just move your fingers. Let me know you can hear me._ "

She doesn't have that distraction now.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

* * *

It's two days before guests are allowed to visit. It's three days before Riley gets the opportunity to visit for herself. Maya and Farkle have already gone back to New York – school doesn't stop for anyone, after all – but Cory gave her a little bit of leeway, and Zay isn't going anywhere until Lucas wakes up. He said so himself.

" _If the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for me._ " _Zay kicked his feet up in his armchair in the waiting room, crossing his arms. "He wouldn't go anywhere, and neither am I."_

Riley can relate to that. The determination to stay. She can feel it in her bones, but then there's a part of her that wonders if she even has the right. It was her that put all the pressure on him to go through with it. She was the one who cheered him on and made him believe he could do anything. At least it was genuine – she really believed it.

Now here she is. Cramped in a waiting room armchair with her legs falling asleep because she hasn't moved in hours and feeling so riddled with something – guilt, but also a little something extra – that she isn't even sure when her turn comes to visit she'll be able to walk herself in there and face him.

The big double doors open. A nurse emerges, hanging by the doors and watching expectantly as Zay makes his way back over to Riley.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, coming to stand in front of her. She gives him the best smile she can muster, which admittedly isn't much. "Okay?"

Zay shrugs, not offering a confirmation or a denial. "It's your turn."

"I don't know if I should," she admits, feeling bile caught in the back of her throat. Just like she figured, she's finding it difficult to make her feet move.

"Riley, go back there." Zay gives her an adamant look, raising his eyebrows. "He'd want you to be there."

She doesn't believe it, but Zay knows Lucas better than anybody, so she figures she has to take his word for it.

After a moment she forces herself up, taking a second to balance on her own two feet before giving him a curt nod. Head down, she makes her way in the direction of the nurse, who gives her a smile as she crosses through the big double doors.

They close behind her, trapping her in. Whatever happens next, now she's stuck in it.

"You a friend of Mr. Friar's?" the nurse asks, leading the way around stagnant patients in stretchers and conversing nurses and doctors.

Riley finds herself uncertain how to answer. Yes, of course she is – he's one of her best friends in the entire world. But it also doesn't feel like enough to sufficiently explain their relationship. It also feels like if she were really his friend, they wouldn't be in this situation.

"He's very important to me," she murmurs, avoiding eye contact as they make their way through the white-walled maze. That's the only statement she can make that's one hundred percent truthful, regardless of the status of their bond.

The nurse nods, backing off a bit as they stop outside one of the hospital rooms. She gives Riley an encouraging nod, holding open the door slightly.

"Whenever you're ready."

She's certain she never will be, so she moves forward anyway, nodding a thank-you and stepping into the room.

What she's not prepared for is the reality of how normal he looks. Despite the couple of bruises on his forearms from when he broke his fall and the pale complexion to his normally tan face, he looks perfectly at ease. He could simply be resting. She knows the expression well – she hasn't forgotten the time he fell asleep in English class and how absolutely adorable he looked when he woke up with paper creases all over his cheek.

She glances behind her at the closed door. She could still run, if she wanted to. She doesn't have to face him. He wouldn't know the difference anyway.

But yes, she does. Because all she's done so far is run, tiptoe back from her own feelings because of Charlie, because of Jack and Rachel, because of Maya and unofficial things and what happens next. The fear of what happens next.

She gently lowers herself into the seat next to the bed, pulled close from when Zay was there previously. It's just as quiet as the waiting room, only this time instead of the clock or his fingers it's the monitor keeping time, keeping the pace of his heart and letting her know it's still going.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I don't know why I'm here," she finds herself saying, her voice croaky from how little she's spoken in the last seventy-two hours. She clears her throat, sitting up a bit straighter. "I probably should've gone home with Maya and Farkle, but I don't know. I couldn't… I couldn't just leave. Not with everything like this."

He doesn't answer. He doesn't acknowledge her. Of course he doesn't, he's unconscious and it's her fault.

Even still, talking to him helps. It always does, whether he realizes it or not. So she keeps going, filling the silence with her own noise.

"I shouldn't have told you to do this." She swallows, pushing some hair behind her ear. "I just really thought, I mean, I know I'm naive. But I really believed you could do it. I believed that you could do anything, and I still do."

After a moment's hesitation, she reaches forward and lightly touches the back of his hand. She thinks about holding it but decides against it – she hasn't earned that right.

Instead, she finds her lightly tapping her finger against his wrist. Keeping time, syncing with his heart monitor.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I believe that you can pull through this. Maybe that's dumb, but I have to believe it." She takes a deep breath, hating the way she can feel the tears forming in the back of her throat. "Because I don't want to believe the alternative is possible."

Her hand comes to rest on top of his, fingers gently curling around the back of his hand. She keeps tapping her thumb against his knuckles, chewing on the inside of her cheek as the tears threaten to spill over the corner of her eyes.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispers. A couple tears manage to escape and she wipes them hastily with the heel of her other hand, taking a shaky breath. "It's why I keep going back and forth, it's why I don't really know what… why we can't be what we think we are, maybe. Because I don't want to be Jack and Rachel. I don't want to stop talking to one another if things take a wrong turn. I don't want to… I can't."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"But this is worse." It feels like she's stating the obvious, but keeping it in feels wrong. "This is so much worse. If I'm going to lose you somehow, I'd much rather it be like that. After giving things a chance. Where we'd both be okay."

The words come out lower than a whisper, but she has to get them out. She's already kicking herself for not saying them sooner, considering the circumstances.

"I love you, Lucas. And now I know how." She inhales to catch her breath, swallowing back the tears and forcing herself to be brave. Even a fraction as brave as him. "Please be okay."

For all the keeping time she's doing, she doesn't know how much of it passes. She isn't sure how long she sits there.

All she knows is that the world starts spinning the moment she feels his finger move.

Riley hesitates, not completely sure whether she imagined it or not. She holds her breath, frozen in case there's another moment and she misses it.

But she didn't imagine it. A couple seconds later, his hand moves again. It's more of a twitch than anything else, but it's something. It's anything. And that's all she asked for in the first place.

"Lucas?" She leans forward, watching his face for any sign of change. She hits the call button, signaling the nurse to come back. "Lucas, can you hear me?"

Her heart is pounding again, but this time it's easy to maintain her focus. Nothing could tear her away from this moment, no matter how terrifying it is not knowing what's coming next.

After a few seconds, his brow furrows slightly. He groans lightly, and Riley feels the weight of the world lift off her shoulders and tears fill her eyes once again. "Oh my God."

"Riley?" he mutters, his words slurred slightly as he returns back to consciousness.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me." She tightens her grip on his hand, smiling in spite of the tears. In this case, they're for a good reason. "I'm right here. I'm here. You're going to be okay."

There will be time for confessions later. There will be time for her to reiterate her feelings – now that she knows them, now that she's said them out loud, she's suddenly not as scared. She knows that whatever happens next, the chance of things working out for the best is worth the risk.

For now, she's content to stay by his side and help him get better. They're not Jack and Rachel. They're Riley and Lucas, and that, she knows, is one of the most important things in her world. Regardless of what happens next.


	2. honesty, honesty, honesty

For his own sanity, Lucas Friar just wants to understand why exactly the universe hates him.

Getting kicked out of school was bad, but at least he understood the reasoning behind that one. His behavior was out of line and not producing any results, so the world had to make something happen before he could learn from it. Considering everything that happened since then, he doesn't even really have the heart in him to think of it as a bad thing. He was even starting to think maybe he should trust the universe a little bit—it cares about him. It's going to do right by him.

Then eighth grade happened, and their trip to Texas, and everything that happened afterwards. Falling off a bull hurt, yeah, but Riley looking him in the eyes and telling him—multiple times, for the record—that they were brother and sister when he was very, very certain they were not anything like siblings injured him far, far worse. From trying to navigate mixed feelings, to balancing what he felt versus what both Riley and Maya seemingly wanted him to do which was likely to change by the day, to learning Riley did still in fact have feelings for him left way more scars on him than Tombstone.

He spent a lot of time the rest of that year searching for the lesson. The universe had thrown him around and taught him something important before, so surely there had to be a reason behind this one. He'd figure it out, solve all of the problems with his newfound perspective, and then he'd tell Riley what he'd wanted to tell her back in Texas before she kicked him in the gut and everything would work out fine.

Now, well into the middle of ninth grade, he's given up on trying to figure it out. No, the universe just hates him and this is just another one of its sick, twisted games. _Triangle Limbo_ , a crazy, fuddled maze of entertainment starring their favorite mortal chump, Lucas James Friar.

Considering all the joy the universe must get out of that alone, Lucas finds their latest tactic of torture simply unfair.

"Wait, wait," Zay says through the phone, obviously chewing on food of some kind. Lucas absentmindedly wonders if his best friend ever stops eating to breathe. "You're where? What's happening?"

He groans in annoyance, huddling closer to the wall between the door and the countertop. He's hidden away in Riley's hall bathroom, debating whether or not he could barricade the door effectively enough and possibly never leave. It's not exactly the most comfortable place to be stuck for the rest of his life, but the wall is a soothing shade of purple, and hey, at least it smells like Riley.

"I'm hiding."

"I thought you were going to tell Riley and Maya who you chose," Farkle snaps. "Lucas, you have to choose. If I have to tell you again, I'm going to kill you before you can deliver the news."

Lucas rolls his eyes. "That's what I was going to do. But then—wait a minute. Are you guys hanging out without me?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Yeah, hurry up and destroy the triangle so we can do something," Zay whines. "I'm bored out of my mind."

"Real nice, Zay."

"Look, it's not my fault you're boring! You want me to be entertained, be entertaining."

Lucas can imagine the disdainful expression on Farkle's face just from the tone in his voice. "Please end this thing so things can go back to normal and we can go back to hanging out the way we used to. I need my best friend."

"Hey, he's my best friend."

"Hello!" Lucas snaps, before lowering his voice again. He's afraid he may tip off the people waiting just down the hall in the kitchen. "My problems now."

"It's always your problems," Zay grumbles.

"Tell us what happened."

"Okay. So I came to tell Riley and Maya—presumably, if Maya was here, but I figured at least Riley would be here. Even though I still wanted to do this alone—,"

"We know, we know. You wanted to give Riley all the time in the world to tell her exactly what you chose and why you chose it and give her time to express questions, comments, and concerns."

"Hey," Lucas argues. "I never said I chose her."

"Neither did I," Farkle says smugly. "But now I'm a little more sure thanks to your assumption."

Zay starts chuckling uncontrollably on the other end of the line. Lucas debates hanging up.

"And then you were going to send Maya a letter in the mail. Or something equally personable, I'm sure."

"Anyway," Lucas says flatly, cutting Farkle off. "I was going to come tell them but they're not here. And instead of finding them when I walk into the kitchen, I find their parents sitting around like they're just… waiting for me. And they invite me to sit down and tell them why I'm there."

"Well, that's not so bad," Zay offers reasonably. "You've talked with Mr. Matthews before."

"It wasn't just the Matthews. Maya's mom is here too."

The chorus of astonished gasps from the two of them is exactly how Lucas was expecting they'd react. Just thinking about his situation to himself makes him feel sick to his stomach. He figures it's a good thing he's got a plethora of household plumbing to throw up in if things go really sour.

"That's bad luck. That's just bad."

"Yeah. And now they're waiting for me to tell them who I chose when I haven't even told Riley or Maya yet, and it's like, what am I supposed to say? I don't want anyone to get upset."

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening. If even Farkle, man of a million ideas, is stumped, Lucas knows he's in trouble. The universe has truly cornered him this time, stuck in the Matthews hall bathroom and seconds from vomiting out of nerves.

"Yeah, I figured it was hopeless too. I think I'm just gonna try and climb out through the bathtub drain. If I suffocate, it'll be for the best."

"Alright, drama queen," Zay says.

"Lucas, I'm going to tell you what I already told you a million times over," Farkle says calmly. For all his hysterics and general snarkiness, Lucas appreciates how level-headed his genius friend is in times of crisis. It's one of his favorite things about him. "Choose."

"I _did_ choose."

"I know. So be confident in it. Be honest with the parents the same way you're going to be honest with the girls. If you really did make a decision, then you're going to have to stand by it. Consider this practice." At his lack of a response, Farkle continues. "If you're honest, then there's nothing else you can really do. But I bet it's going to be fine."

"Easy for him to say," Zay adds.

"I know, look, I'm not saying I envy him. But I really think it'll all work out. Things always do."

Things will work out. They always do. Lucas forces himself to remember that.

He swallows. "You're right. I'm just gonna be honest. I will. Thanks, guys."

"Of course."

"We're your best friends. We'll come by in a couple hours when we've officially bored each other to death."

"So you'll see our corpses. Leave the bay window open."

Lucas hangs up, picking himself up off the floor and gearing himself to face the worst. He figures if he can survive this, he can survive anything.

He second guesses this notion the moment he steps back out into the hallway and three expectant glares turn towards him all at once. He knows he's supposed to be the brave friend and that he's not afraid of anything, but if he's being honest, the image in front of him right now terrifies him more than anything.

Cory breaks the tension first, offering him a smile. Lucas is a little surprised he's the one being so friendly in this time of strain. "All good?"

Lucas nods, willing himself to take the few steps down into the kitchen. He hesitates, trying to pick the best place to plant himself without putting himself in severe danger. This whole scenario kind of feels like some strange real-life chess match—he doesn't want to end up the pawn who gets thrown off the board five minutes in.

For whatever reason, he finds himself settling down in the empty chair between Topanga and Katy. It feels like the most dangerous space on the board, but if he's going to get through this he needs to be vulnerable. The honestly is going to do it to him anyway.

He clasps his hands together, swallowing hard and staring at the tabletop. Reminding himself how words are supposed to work. Topanga tilts her head at him, waiting for an explanation. "Lucas?"

Honesty. Complete honesty.

"I didn't want to say this like this," he admits. "I wanted to tell them first. That's why I came here in the first place—I was hoping to find them sitting around. Not that it isn't a honor to be seated here with you."

"Charming," Katy comments, giving him a look.

"What are you talking about? You're always just popping up in my house. This situation doesn't make that any different."

Topanga holds up a hand to silence her husband's protests, flashing him a smile before focusing back on Lucas. "Go on."

"You're right," he concedes, nodding in Cory's direction. "I am always here. I can't exactly explain why, but I really like being here. It feels more like home than my own apartment does, and I don't think it's only because it's so well kept. The company here is really nice, too, and that's bound to make a difference."

Cory and Topanga exchange a soft look.

"But then, I think it's more than that too. Because it doesn't feel nearly as comfortable when Riley's not here. And yeah, that's probably because I'm in my friend's house when my friend isn't here and that's going to be awkward no matter which friend it is, but this is different. It doesn't really matter where we are, whether it's here or school or whatever—I like being where Riley is. When she's around, then I'm happy. That's why I always pop up around here. Because when I need somewhere to go, wherever she is, that's where I want to end up."

Lucas tosses a glance in Katy's direction. It feels apologetic, so he hopes that's what she gets from the brief eye contact. And he'll address her in a minute—he knows he has to. But he wants to be as clear to Cory and Topanga as possible before things get too messy.

"You guys have always impressed me. The way you keep your family together, how much you care about Riley—it doesn't go unnoticed. And I always hoped that I would be able to prove to you guys how I was aiming for the same thing, that you guys would get how much I care about her, too. All this has really messed that up, but I don't think my feelings have changed."

He knows he's starting to ramble, and the last thing he wants to end up saying a bunch of words that don't mean anything. He pauses to collect his thoughts, forcing himself to make eye contact with Topanga. She's examining him curiously, allowing him the time to put his thoughts together.

"Riley has been kind to me ever since she met me. She didn't have to do that, but she did. Because that's who she is, and that's what she grew up with. And that impact has never worn off, in fact if anything, it's just become more consistent. There's no one who's opinion I value more, who I think about more, who is more important to me. Riley is really important to me, and she always will be. I want her to be. It's been that way since day one, and I don't see it changing."

Even though he didn't outright admit to anything, wasn't explicitly clear about the decision he made, he can tell from the expression on Topanga's face that she knows. That she gets exactly what he's saying, and that maybe, in some strange capacity, she understands him a little more for it, too. Like she's been there before.

Swallowing his nerves, he shifts in his seat and turns to face Katy. She looks inquisitive, ready for an explanation, but not necessarily surprised by anything he's said already. He's mostly grateful that for all her curiosity, she doesn't seem angry with him.

"Maya's been in my life just as consistently as Riley, and she's always pushed me. Sometimes it's for the best and sometimes I can't stand it, but she always makes a point of challenging me. And believe me, this whole ordeal has been the most challenging experience she could've thrown at me."

Katy smiles fondly, shrugging her shoulders a bit. "She's always been a force to be reckoned with."

"She is. And in many capacities, she's an amazing person. I don't always get to see the best sides of her, but Riley does. Riley knows how amazing Maya can be, and that I believe. Your daughter is great, and whoever ends up with is going to be very lucky."

Lucas hesitates, feeling his fingers grow cold as his nerves grow stronger. Dreading whatever Katy's reaction may be.

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

"But I don't think I'm supposed to be that person. I can't be that person. Because it's not fair to her. Not when I know my feelings like I do now."

There's a long pause. The air between the four of them is completely silent. Lucas wills himself not to pass out.

Finally, Katy nods. Even better still, she offers him a compassionate smile. Like she could tell how hard that was and how she appreciates his honestly all the more for it.

Lucas exhales in relief, spinning back so that he's facing the table. Silence still prevails in the room. Once he's calmed his heart rate enough, he casts a glance in Cory's direction and clears his throat. "I hope I was clear in what I needed to say. I know it's something I need to work on."

Cory smiles. He shares a tacit exchange with Topanga, before giving Lucas a proud look.

"Crystal."


	3. breaking routine

It's not like Lucas to be late.

Not that they have any sort of set schedule for when he's supposed to come in at night. Considering they're still trying to be as discrete as possible as not to tip off Cory and Topanga (although Riley half-believes they have to already know), it would be silly for them to arrange a specific time for him to pop in the bay window to stay the night. But since the night he started showing up in the middle of junior year and every night since then, he's shown up at around the same time every evening and Riley has grown accustomed to it. It's now a pretty consistent part of her evening routine.

Change clothes. Brush teeth. Let Lucas in. Wash face. Inadvertently eat a late night snack. Brush teeth again. Floss. Talk until falling asleep. Repeat.

That evening she's already washed her face and is well on her way to the late night snack, pawing through the refrigerator as she sends Lucas a text to check that he's alright. She doesn't mind him being late, she doesn't even mind him not showing up–she's wouldn't be happy about it, but she'd live–but a heads-up to let her know what's going on always makes her feel better.

One bite into a bowl of cold spaghetti later, she gets her response.

 ** _Lucas Friar_** : Help.

A rush of panic immediately runs through her. She drops the bowl on the counter and picks up her phone to formulate a response, before her rational side starts to kick in.

If Lucas was in serious danger, he wouldn't be texting her. He'd probably call her, and realistically he'd call the police before her. Whatever the situation is, it's likely far less serious than her overactive imagination is leading her to believe from one text message.

Besides, the fact that Lucas is openly asking for help is an indicator in itself. Knowing him and his tendency to internalize, if it was a big deal he'd hold off on asking for help a lot longer than this.

Still, she swipes open her phone and dials his number, that irrational part of her brain praying she won't be hearing the worst on the other end.

 _"Where are you?"_

Despite the lack of an affectionate greeting, just hearing his voice is enough to assuage her concerns. She smiles instinctively, allowing herself to take another bite of her pasta. "I could ask you the same question. In fact, I will. Where are _you_?"

 _"I'm here. Well, I'm sort of here. I'm like, one foot out the door."_ Riley finds the way he's whispering over the phone somewhat endearing. _"Which again begs the question, where are you?"_

"One foot out the door?" She hesitates. "Is this a break-up call?"

 _"Riley! You need to come help me."_

"With what?" Riley notices herself raising her voice naturally out of comfortability, mentally forcing herself to keep it down to a murmur. "What are you talking about? Just come in, I'm in the kitchen."

 _"I can't."_ He sighs. _"I'm stuck."_

"You're stuck?" Riley furrows her brow in confusion, fork halfway to her mouth. "What do you mean you're stuck?"

 _"I'm–,"_ he starts, before there's a strange rustling on the other end. His next words sound far away, and she can hear it more clearly from the other side of her door in the hall than over the phone.

 _"Damn it!"_

Riley deposits her half-empty bowl in the sink and immediately darts to her bedroom, peeking over her shoulder to confirm that her parents are still sleeping without disturbance. Not sure what to expect and with her phone still pressed to her ear, she cracks the door open to her and slips inside.

The sight in front of her causes her to close the door behind as swiftly as possible only so she can burst out laughing with as little risk of waking her family as possible.

Lucas is well on his way into her room as promised, only he's situated half-in and half-out as his clothes are somehow caught on the open window frame. His phone is laying on the floor just out of his reach, still on the line with her.

He frowns at her laughter which only makes her giggle harder, lifting her hands up to her face in an attempt to stifle the sound.

"Don't laugh," he complains, still stretching in an attempt to grab his phone. "Help me!"

She ends the call and kneels down to grab his phone as well, tossing both of them on the bed behind her and crouching down in front of him. She tilts her head at his predicament, trying not to laugh at his request but unable to hold back a smile.

"What happened, Lucas?"

He rolls his eyes at her teasing tone, trying and failing to situate himself in a more upright position. He exhales harshly, narrowing his eyes. "Look, this is the first time this has ever happened. I don't know what happened. I just want to be freed, please."

Riley gazes at him affectionately. She has to admit, he's awfully cute when he's so annoyed. Being at the relatively same height currently, it's easy when she leans forward to kiss him.

In spite of his indignation, Lucas is never one to refuse a kiss from Riley Matthews. He allows the gesture and steals another quick one from her before wincing slightly, making a face and wriggling against the bay window again.

"You know, that's a lot less fun when I'm pinned like this."

Riley lets out a laugh, relenting and holding her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, let's see what we've got."

"I don't know what happened," he repeats as she gets to her knees, leaning around him to investigate the situation. "The window just attacked me. It's not like I did anything different."

"Actually, that's not entirely true. You were like twenty minutes late."

"Oh, gee, sorry," he mutters. It's obvious the statement is supposed to be sarcastic, but Riley can still hear the hint of sincerity in the apology. Her boyfriend is nothing if not sincere. "But I don't think that's why your window decided to plan a botched decapitation."

Her grin widens. He's also nothing if not dramatic. "Karma," she sings.

"Riley, please."

"I'm on it," she assures him, patting the back of his head haphazardly as she examines the cause of the problem.

From the looks of it, part of his t-shirt got nicked on the decorative latch on the window frame, and when he tried to push his way through his belt got caught as well. The most humorous part is that it seems like him trying to fix it himself caused the window to fall down and nearly close, explaining the reason he's even more stuck than before.

"We're lucky I could even reach my phone before it chopped me. I tried undoing it myself but I just wasn't meant to bend that way."

Riley hums in amusement, reaching under the window and starting to remove his t-shirt from the wood. "It wouldn't have been so bad if your belt hadn't got caught too. You know, this is what happens when you keep tucking your shirt halfway in but don't follow through."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"Actually, you know, I think this is a sign," she continues, smirking. With the shirt freed, her fingers get to work on unlatching his belt. "I think the universe is telling you to stop wearing shirts when you come here."

"It is not."

"Uh-huh. I think the message is loud and clear that both of us would be better off if you just… didn't wear one."

She feels Lucas elbow whichever part of her is available, which happens to be her lower back. She erupts into giggles. "I'm not walking across Manhattan in the middle of the night without clothes on. In the winter."

"Just saying," she says, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she fights with the edge of his belt. "Wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been wearing anything."

She feels the pressure release as she manages to successfully pull his belt from the latch, humming triumphantly. Rolling back on her heels, she crouches back in front of him.

"Should be good now. Climb through."

Lucas nods and makes an effort to, but it's obvious from his awkward positioning that it's easier said than done. Riley rises to her knees again and takes his hands, helping pull him forward to the best of her ability.

He finally manages to break free, exhaling with relief and clambering to his knees as the window falls shut behind him. His balance is shaky though and before either of them can revel in the victory he's stumbling forward off the window seat. Hands still linked together, Riley acts on instinct and yanks him in her direction as he tumbles onto the floor, landing half on top of her and eliciting a yelp from both of them.

Riley's exclamation quickly devolves into giggles as Lucas adjusts, sitting up on his elbow and checking her for injuries. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

She hums an affirmation through her laughter, nodding. She wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him down into a kiss, pressing her forehead to his when they pull apart.

"Never better."

Lucas shakes his head at her, but his fond smile gives him away. He gives her another kiss, stifling her giggles for an entirely different reason. It's her turn to steal another quick peck when they break. "I won't be late from now on."

She smiles contently at him, taking the front of his t-shirt in her fingers and kneading it lightly. "And no shirt."

"Yeah, still not happening. But nice try."


	4. what the ( purple ) cat dragged in

**i.**

The first time he meets her, it's a Monday and it's raining.

Days at the practice are never ideal when it's raining. Something about the weather always riles up the animals, some sort of sense or psychology Lucas should probably remember from veterinary school. Lucas always ends up with more defensive scratches on his arms on the days when it rains.

So that Monday morning in April, acting on the lessons of rainy Mondays past, he can only assume it's going to be a rough day at the office.

For his prudence, he proves himself mostly right. Halfway through the afternoon he's got three hairline nicks on his upper arms from his morning patients, and a particularly nasty swipe from his regular St. Bernard, Cookie, might be drastic enough to warrant a light scar when all is said and done.

Zay apologizes profusely for the scratch, but Lucas assures him it's not a big deal. He's had worse, and he certainly can't blame Cookie – she's a big lady, and naturally her claws are going to do a little more damage than the smaller mammals he attends to every day.

Still, it doesn't make it sting any less. He's finishing up disinfecting the minor combat wound as Sarah pokes her head into the back room to give him an update. She stops with her mouth half-open when she sees the bandage he's slapping over it.

"Yikes. What happened to you?"

"Babineaux's dog was a little restless this morning. Fair on her part, considering the shots she was due for."

"Well," Sarah says with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe. "Guess that's the way the Cookie crumbles."

Lucas rolls his eyes. "As good as that is, one more crack like that and I'm firing you."

"Smackle would never let you. Someone has to keep things real around here. She appreciates my unbridled, brutal honesty."

"You know, honesty doesn't have to be brutal."

Sarah's turn to roll her eyes. "Your four o'clock is here."

"I'll be out in just a second."

Lucas rolls down his sleeve back over his arm and grabs his files off the counter, sorting through them until he finds his next patient. It's a blank slate, indicating he's in for a new patient with no sort of preparation to aid him in the endeavor.

First impressions are always the worst. They always have been, despite how many people tell him he's being silly for stressing. Smackle rails on him any time he brings it up, lamenting the fact that he's so charming and well-mannered it doesn't even matter what he says or does. People are going to keep coming back for more, so he can keep his pretty little mouth shut.

In her defense, she's statistically not incorrect. He maintains more consistent patients than anyone else at the practice, so maybe he shouldn't complain.

He makes his through the examination room to the door out to the lobby, poking his head out and glancing down at the file in his hand.

He double takes when he reads the name listed in the paperwork. He's not sure he's reading it right. Normally, calling in patients by their name rather than their owner is one of the more enjoyable parts of the job. But now he's not so sure.

He clears his throat, aiming to come off confident. "Uh, Purple Cat?"

"Oh, that's us," someone chirps, leaping up from the bench at the end of the room.

The woman that approaches him has one of the brightest, easiest smiles he thinks he's ever seen. There's something about her that's so captivating and uplifting, it feels as though he could put her outside in the rain and she could make the sun shine with her bubbly demeanor.

Or maybe she is the sun, and the reason it's pouring down rain outside is because she's stuck in here on a Monday afternoon.

He's so distracted by her that he forgets for a moment what she's even doing there. He doesn't notice the cat carrier she's lugging in her arms until she's standing in front of him, still offering that smile and raising her eyebrows uncertainly.

"Do we just stand here, or?"

"Oh, no," he says, but it comes out more like a cough. He remembers Smackle's disdain at his nerves and attempts to reinstall his usual confidence, returning her beam and leading her back into the examination room. "Right this way. You can place the carrier on the countertop there."

She does as she's told, gently resting the carrier on the table in the center of the room. Back in his usual territory, he gains a little more control over his bearings. This is his turf – he knows what he's doing. Just another patient.

"So," he says authoritatively, flipping through the papers she filled out before lifting his eyes to glance at her. "New patient?"

She nods. "I used to go to this practice closer to downtown, because a family friend owned it. I mean, don't get me wrong, Rachel was the best with animals. Not like her practice wasn't good or anything like that. But when I got my new job, I didn't know where I was going to be, and my roommate – she's an artist – her job took her further upstate so that's where we ended up. And it just seemed like a pain to go such a long distance when I'm sure there are just as suitable vets around here, you know?"

He's not sure if he should jump in and respond, or if she's going to keep zooming off on another tangent. It's an impressive talent for rambling she's got on display, but if he's being honest with himself he doesn't mind it so much. In fact, considering how disinterested and quiet a lot of his customers are, it makes for a refreshing change of pace.

"Well, we're happy you're here with us today," he says genially. The smile returns to her face and she tilts her head, as if the statement genuinely touched her in some way he doesn't understand. "Miss…"

"Matthews," she fills in, holding out her hand. "Riley Matthews."

He accepts the handshake. "And your friend…"

"Purple Cat," she says, filling in the blank with absolutely no hesitancy.

"Purple Cat." He nods an agreement. "Well, shall we–?"

Riley moves forward at the same time as him, eager to help in whatever way she can. Both of them touch the carrier cage lock at the same time, Lucas pulling his hand away first on instinct. As popular as Smackle thinks he is, he's not one to make a habit of unintentionally touching the owners of his patients, particularly ones he's just met.

Especially pretty ones who have him flustered enough already.

Riley thinks nothing of it, continuing to undo the latch and pull back the carrier door. She leans forward on her elbows, cocking her head at her fuzzy companion. "Come on, Purr. Show Dr. Friar what you're working with."

Lucas isn't sure what is going to emerge from within that lavender-colored carrier. He's not sure he wants to know. Sure, online photos of little animals dyed all sorts of different colors are cute in theory (that Pikachu kitten is a whole other level), but in practice it reeks of animal rights violations. He's not sure he can handle seeing a bright purple cat in person. He's not sure he can harbor such necessary judgment against Riley considering how darn adorable she is if that turns out to be the case.

His worries are assuaged seconds later, when a perfectly healthy and perfectly normal Birman emerges shyly from the cage. She glances hesitantly at both of them, Riley giving her an encouraging nod before she strides towards the center of the table.

"There you go!" Riley says proudly, reaching forward to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Look at you go."

Purple Cat meows pleasantly, nudging her head against Riley's hand. Obviously, not a victim of animal abuse in any way, shape, or form.

"Well, she's not purple," Lucas says dumbly, mentally kicking himself the instant the words leave his mouth.

"No, she's not," Riley agrees with a laugh, hearty and full of amusement. "I get what you mean. People hear the name, they tend to get a little… well, there are expectations."

"No kidding."

"Guess I set her up for a lifetime of disappointment," she sighs, rubbing under Purple Cat's chin. "Sorry, sweetie."

Lucas decides that's as good a time as any to start with the actual appointment, taking over for Riley and petting the cat. He subtly checks for any odd bumps or lumps along her abdomen, grateful that despite her timidity Purple Cat seems incredibly tame. He may get out of this one without a scratch.

"So, first appointment, regular check-up, correct?" Lucas gently checks her teeth, although she's evidently not thrilled about it as she tries to wriggle out of his hands. "Nothing out of the ordinary you want me to pay extra special attention to?"

It takes Riley a moment to respond, so much so that he lifts his eyes to check that she's still present. She's gazing at him, obviously lost in thought, but the shock of locking eyes with him brings her back down to Earth.

"Yes," she says, clearing her throat. For some reason, she seems a bit embarrassed. "Yep, just a normal check-up."

"Okay." He reaches behind him to grab the otoscope, smirking at her in an effort to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. "So, you going to tell me the story of why your non-violet cat is named accordingly?"

It works like a charm. Riley relaxes, smile back on her face as she twirls a piece of hair around her fingers.

"Eh, that's a second appointment kind of deal." Her smile brightens, eyes twinkling with a challenge. "Impress me with your veterinary abilities, and then we'll see."

* * *

 **ii.**

The next time he sees her, it's a Tuesday and it's sooner than expected.

Purple Cat passed her annual exam with flying colors (pun not intended), and unless a serious emergency arose Lucas didn't expect to see the well-groomed Birman or her cute owner for another six months. Although it's disappointing for his own selfish reasons, mostly he's relieved she seems to take her pet care so seriously. There's no trait Lucas finds more attractive than a dedication to taking care of others – especially those you elect to take into your charge by choice, like the small house pets who are not equipped to take care of themselves – so it's a little easier to harbor a secret, unprofessional crush knowing Riley values the life and well-being of her oddly named feline.

Distance helps to stem such an infatuation before it really starts as well, so it's a big surprise when Riley is back in their waiting room only a couple weeks later.

"Riley?" He frowns lightly out of confusion when he steps out of the exam room to run some files back to the front desk. Sarah takes them, watching between the two of them curiously. With Sarah, curiosity is never a good thing. "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes light up the moment she sees him. She jumps to her feet, almost stumbling over Purple Cat's carrier. "Oh, well, Purple Cat started showing some weird symptoms."

"Purple Cat?" Sarah says pointedly, less skilled at hiding her judgment than anyone else in the office.

"And I figured better safe than sorry. So I made another appointment." Her delivery is off somehow, as if she doesn't quite believe what she's saying herself. "I hope that's okay."

"I mean, it's not up to me," Lucas says blankly, trying to catch up with the situation. There are so many aspects of this scenario he's not prepared for, like the fact that she looks even cuter than the last time he saw her, and he was in such a rush this morning he forgot to comb his hair, and the button down he's wearing underneath his coat is one of his oldest and so worn with wear that the pleasant cerulean it used to be is now a faded, jaded blue-grey at best.

"I explained to her that you were on break and were booked until next week, but here she is." Sarah says pointedly, obviously hoping for drama. "So I passed her off to Smackle instead."

He doesn't know what it is, but something about the situation makes him throw convention out the window. Maybe it's because Smackle is so much tougher than he is, and although he doesn't know her all that well he gets the feeling that Riley is the kind of patient who deals better with a softer approach. Maybe it's because his shirt is so pathetically drab and she decided to show up out of the blue and his veterinary prowess is the only thing he feels like can salvage his pride.

Or maybe, it's just because she is so darn cute. Unprofessional, perhaps, but who is he to say no to the sun?

"Squeeze her in now, just cut the break in half," Lucas directs, nodding to Riley and heading towards the examination room with his name on the door.

Sarah shakes her head, stunned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he repeats, allowing Riley to slip past him. He and his sassy assistant have a tacit exchange with increasingly disdainful facial expressions until Lucas gives up and shuts her out, closing the door behind him.

Riley offers him a nervous smile, the carrier already on the table. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I hope I'm not causing too much trouble," she murmurs as he makes his way around the room the other side of the examination table. "I wouldn't want that."

"No, it's fine. Sarah's just work adverse, and anything that requires her to put more effort in than usual is an automatic no from her."

Riley giggles, reaffirming his belief that he's made the right decision. Well, that and the fact that something could be wrong with Purple Cat and he's only doing his duty as a sworn protector of the common house pet. That's the most important part, of course.

"So, what's up with Purr?"

"Oh. Well," Riley starts, hesitating as she glances away from him down to the lavender carrier. "She um, started… sneezing."

Lucas blinks. "Sneezing?"

"Yes. Lots of it. And of course it could just be allergies, or whatever. But then I was thinking, what if it's something more serious? What if she has feline pneumonia? What if she has a little feline tumor somewhere in her nasal passage and one day she's going to sneeze one last time and that's going to be it? I couldn't live with that."

Lucas's eyes are wide as she rambles on, escalating her speed and volume of delivery the more she riles herself up.

"So I decided it was smarter to bring her in for another check. You know, for the sake of her well-being and all."

Although her theatrics are quite convincing, Lucas doesn't buy that Purple Cat is having any sneezing issues. She hasn't even huffed since they entered the room, and Riley's story is just a bit too rehearsed to feel genuine. As far as he can tell, nothing is wrong with Purple Cat at all.

Yet, she's here, back in front of him again. And he isn't going to complain about that.

"I'll take a look," he assures her. "Just let me grab her file. You can go ahead and take her out."

Riley nods, following instructions as Lucas disappears through the other door to the back.

He passes by the scales and veterinary equipment to the file cabinet. Smackle is already there, seated at the computer and entering new patient data into the online system.

She doesn't even glance up at him. "So, Color Wheel is back, huh?"

"Her name is Riley," he says flatly, rolling his eyes. He opens his drawer and picks through the files. "And yes. So what?"

"Well, she was supposed to be my two-fifteen. But Sarah told me you picked her up. Over your break."

Lucas shrugs, not validating her statement with a response. Her tone is a little too tickled to be conversational.

"I don't see what's worth commenting on about that. She's my client, I should take her concerns. Purple Cat and I have a deep connection."

"Oh, silly me." Smackle glances at him over her shoulder, a smirk ghosting over her features. "You should ask her out."

"What?" Lucas waves her off. "No!"

"She literally made up an ailment for her cat to have just so she could come in and see you again. She's not being subtle, and neither should you."

"She's my patient. It's unprofessional."

"Her feline is your patient. She, on the other hand, is fair game. And the only reason you're passing up this opportunity is because you're a yellow belly and overthink everything and are terrified of putting yourself out there."

Lucas doesn't even know where to begin with that statement. Regardless of how much of it is true. "Yellow belly?"

"Word of the day calendar." Smackle gets to her feet, swiping a file from the desk and pushing him aside to open her own drawer. "Means coward."

"I know what it means. And I am not. I'm not afraid of anything."

"Prove it." She files her things away and closes her drawer, raising her eyebrows at him.

He likes Smackle, and he's grateful they're business partners, but there are a few things he greatly resents about her. One of which being the way she can stand a whole foot shorter than him and still exude enough blind confidence to feel as though she's towering over him.

"You don't ask her out, I will." She heads back towards her examination room. "She's quite attractive."

"You're engaged, future Mrs. Farkle Minkus."

"You could be, too," she retorts effortlessly, stopping at her door. She leans her head back, humming thoughtfully. "Color Wheel and Yellow Belly. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

He makes a face at her as she goes, returning to the file drawer and finding "Purple Cat" in the middle. It suddenly feels heavy in his hands, like some kind of reminder of everything he could have if he put himself the slightest bit out there.

But at the end of the day, it's just a patient file. He and Riley, they're just friends. Barely that. Acquaintances at best.

There's a reason the sun is millions of lightyears away. Because if you're not careful, if you get too close or expose yourself too much, you're inevitably going to get burned.

* * *

 **iii.**

Riley comes by the next Wednesday, only this time she's not alone.

Lucas is surprised to find another new patient file on his side of the back room desk that morning, and even more surprised to see his favorite – or least favorite, depending on how he looks at it – owner seated in the waiting room that afternoon. She's talking animatedly with a petite blonde when he pokes his head out of the exam room, glancing down at the file.

"Ginger?"

Riley leaps up the moment the word leaves his lips, excitedly dragging her friend over to meet him. The blonde looks less than enthused, although he surmises from her jagged, short hair and critical expression that she's likely perpetually that way.

"Riley," he says with an exhale, offering a smile and clasping the file between his hands. "Have to say, it's nice to see you without Purple Cat's life hanging in the balance."

She laughs, her friend raising her eyebrows at the two of them. "You're so right. But no, I'm just here with my friend. This is Maya."

He focuses his attention solely on the sharp blue eyes, holding out his hand. "You must be the artist roommate."

"And you're the veterinarian she won't shut up about, yeah," she says, only cracking a smile when Riley visibly cringes beside her. Taking enjoyment out of the slight embarrassment of her friend, she relaxes somewhat. "So, I'm expecting to be impressed. Vet away."

Maya marches into the examination room without waiting for an invitation, carrying a small, white carrier in her arms. It looks too small to be carrying a cat, but Lucas doesn't have long to think on it when Riley is still standing there in the waiting room looking at him.

"It's immediate ownership only, typically," he explains.

Riley's face falls slightly, and once again he finds himself throwing convention out the window. If he's not careful, he's pretty sure this pretty brunette is going to ruin his life.

"But I guess I can make an exception."

She immediately brightens, wordlessly stepping around him and into the room after her friend. Sarah raises her eyebrows at him from the desk, shaking her head and mouthing at him.

 _Tease_.

He once again shuts her out.

"Riley is as good as family," Maya says sharply as she joins her by her side. As if Lucas needs a valid excuse to have let her in and he wasn't going to do it anyway because he's a terrible, unprofessional vet with no morals. "So she goes wherever I go."

"Noted." Lucas lifts the patient file and skims it, trying to get a sense of what he's preparing himself for. "So, annual check-up? Looks like it's been a while since you've had one."

"That's exactly why I brought her," Riley says in exasperation. "She's always saying that Ginger isn't a _normal_ pet, so he doesn't need to go to the vet like other _normal_ pets."

Lucas isn't sure he wants to know what Maya qualifies as normal. The small carrier at the end of the table suddenly feels more dangerous than before.

"I stand by my words."

"Well, let's get him out here and decide for ourselves, shall we?" Lucas nods to Maya to open the cage, not particularly interested in handling the mystery pet until he's seen it for himself.

She leans forward, huffing as she undoes the latch. "She made such a big stink about it, you have no idea. You should be flattered, she was going on and on about what a great veterinarian you are. Best god damn one in Brooklyn, or something."

"Wow, thanks."

Riley beams.

"Yeah, yeah, but that doesn't explain why she felt the need to come along." Maya steps back from the cage, pulling the door open. "She took the day off at the library just to come along as if Ginger's getting life-changing news."

Lucas raises his eyebrows curiously. "You work at the library?"

"Wednesdays and Fridays," Riley admits, wringing her fingers together. She seems shier than usual, as if the presence of her fiery friend alone pushes her deeper into her shell. "Part-time."

He starts to ask her what her full-time job is, but is distracted by the long, twitchy creature slipping out of the carrier on the table in front of him.

His jaw drops open slightly. "Is that a ferret?"

"Jury's out. We still think it might be a rat."

"Ginger, baby!" Maya says affectionately, crossing her arms proudly. "There he is. Strutting his stuff."

Not his usual patient, that's for sure. But Maya's evidently fond of him, and if he's a pet to her then Lucas figures it's his responsibility to give the critter the best care he can. It's his sworn duty, after all.

That, and the expectantly fond gaze Riley is giving him is a strong motivator to do his absolute best. Despite how harsh a critic her artistic roommate may or may not be.

* * *

 **iv.**

It's the first Thursday in May when Riley shows up again, and this time she's not on the schedule.

Lucas hears her first, her usual cheerful voice frantic from the octave it's pitched at. He can't make out what she's saying but he would recognize her anywhere, and he's out in the waiting room in seconds.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?"

Riley whips around from the front desk, face flushed and tears brimming in her eyes. She's cradling a towel in her arms, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that Purple Cat is bundled up within the fabric. Even Sarah, always the sarcastic one, has concern written all over her.

Something is obviously very wrong.

"Lucas!" Riley exhales, rushing towards him. He doesn't even have a second to register the fact that she called him by his actual name before she's launching into a breathless explanation.

"I thought she was in my room. I thought she was there so I thought, well, I can leave this open for five seconds while I grab the rest of the groceries. I left the door open for five seconds and she runs out and by the time I catch up to her, she's on the stoop. And I'm trying to stop her, but she's a cat so it's not as though she's going to respond to her name. She's not a dog. And she traipses out into the street and this biker comes down the bike lane and–!"

She's totally out of breath, a couple of tears spilling over her cheeks. He wants to comfort her, but he has no idea what the appropriate way to go about that would be and besides, Purple Cat requires his immediate attention. Above all else, the feline is his patient, and he takes his promise to provide her care as seriously as her owner does. Even if a couple of innocent mistakes were made along the way.

"Riley, it's okay." He reaches out and gently touches her shoulders. Purple Cat warbles in pain between them. "Riley, look at me."

She does, lifting her gaze to meet his. He exudes as much calm confidence as he can, squeezing her shoulders. "She is going to be okay. I will take care of it. Breathe."

Riley nods, relenting and allowing Lucas to scoop up Purple Cat from her arms. He gives her one more reassuring nod before he disappears into the examination room and straight to the back, determined to keep his promise to both of them.

It's a couple of hours before he emerges again, stepping out into the waiting room and scanning for Riley. As he approaches she lifts her head, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and attempting to regain her composure.

But considering he's not carrying Purple Cat in his arms, her mind immediately jumps to the worst conclusion. She bubbles up with tears again, shaking her head wordlessly.

"Hey, Riley, hey," he says urgently, speeding up as she bursts into tears. He drops down onto the bench next to her. "You don't have to cry. It's okay. She's fine."

Her crying halts, shock taking over her features. "She's okay? She's fine?"

"Purple Cat is fine," he assures her, offering her a soft smile. Riley exhales a fraught laugh, hiding her head in her hands. "The biker got her tail, so that's going to take some time to heal. But we were able to locate all the injuries and none of them are life-threatening."

Riley absorbs the good news, still trying to regulate her breathing. Lucas ventures a bit of unprofessionalism and pats her shoulder, rubbing her back soothingly.

"All she's going to need is a couple of check-ins and some very good, very attentive home care." She locks eyes with him, hanging on his every word. "Which, as we know, you're very good at."

"Am I?" She huffs, rubbing her face. "I'm the one who let her get out and get herself into trouble."

"People make mistakes, it happens. No one is perfect. Believe me, I've tried." She laughs lightly, wiping her eyes again and sighing. "But yes, take it from your feline medical professional. You're an excellent cat owner. Purple Cat is lucky she has an owner like you."

Riley examines him for a long moment before breaking all his conventions for him, leaning into him and wrapping him in an embrace. Lucas is completely unsure what to do, but it isn't long before he gives in and hugs her back. Not that he was putting up much of a fight.

He glances over her shoulder and finds Sarah looking at them, her typical smirk back on her face. Only this time, it's not as mean-spirited. Smackle is standing with her, both of them watching with a strange mixture of endearment and disdain.

In unison, they mouth another phrase at him.

 _Ask. Her. Out._

* * *

 **v.**

It's a Friday when he takes their advice, only this time he goes to her.

Lucas can't remember the last time he stepped into a library willingly, if the long hours he spent wanting to die in the university libraries are any indication. If he's being honest, he can't remember the last time he read for fun. But suddenly standing amongst the stacks with the entire world of literature in front of him, he feels like maybe he should.

Regardless, he's not there for the books. Not this time.

He finds her behind the desk, helping a little girl check out some comically large picture books. It's evident the interaction is natural for her, at least as easy as it is for him to soothe a house pet before he gives them a shot. Then, maybe the two aren't so familiar.

Either way, he decides her actual career must have something to do with kids. Whatever she does when she's not here on Wednesdays and Fridays or staking out the lobby of his practice. He also decides it's the first thing he's going to ask her, if the question of today pans out positively.

She nods as the parent thanks her and leads the child out of the building with a stack of books. He feels odd as he approaches the check-out desk considering there are no items in his hands, but this whole entire thing has been odd since the moment a feline named Purple Cat showed up in his patient roster.

Not to mention, he's never much minded odd.

"Excuse me, Ms. Matthews?" He waits until she looks up from the computer to lock eyes with him, surprise coloring her features. It's more than a little entertaining – maybe that's the real reason she kept showing up without warning. Just to get that expression out of him. "Hi."

She blinks, a smile ghosting over her lips. "Hi."

"It's been a while since I've been in one of these," he admits sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Got any recommendations?"

"Well, I don't even know where to begin. There's so much to choose from."

"Just my dilemma. That's why I figured you'd be the person to ask."

Riley blushes, clasping her hands together. She clears her throat, standing up straighter and putting on quite the authoritative tone. "Well, sir, it helps to know what you might be interested before I offer any specific suggestions."

"It's funny you should say that," he says, hoping he's coming off cool and not as flustered as he feels whenever she's around. The way he's felt since she appeared in his life with a perfectly healthy Birman and a penchant for rambling. "Because I was just thinking getting to know each other might be kind of nice."

The look on her face is one he's seen before, a vague memory from the first time they met. The same way she looked at him when he was working with Purple Cat, only a little more obviously fond this time around.

"Considering the amount of times I've bothered you about the well-being of Purr, I guess we should, yeah."

"That sounds enthusiastic," he teases, and both of them share a laugh. It's loud enough that Riley's coworker shushes them from the book stacks.

Flushed with embarrassment from being berated in her own workplace for a rule she very well knows but with the twinkle of laughter still in her eyes, Lucas thinks she's just about the most adorable person he's ever seen. The sun, shining it's absolute brightest.

Lucas decides he's ready to burn alive.

"You can finally tell me all about how Purple Cat got her name." He raises an eyebrow, putting himself out there with the deep sense that this time it will be worth it. "You know, with a little more enthusiasm."

Riley nods, tilting her head at him with a warm smile on her face.

"I would like to. Very much."


End file.
